Sarseau is basically an anti-clockwise circuit, twisty but predominantly flat, it runs through the centre of town. The technical difficulties lie in the plethora of street furniture that we had to negotiate, (roundabouts, bollards, crossings and other treacherous lumpy bits).
Lined up with us at the start of the race was a solitary woman which was a bit of a relief for me; at least I wouldn’t finish last this time, surely.
Start - 20:00hrs: The sixty-odd starters lined up in the centre of town and a neutralised (speed-restricted) half lap took us to around the podium before the race started with a bang. The inevitable crash happened on the first tight turn as two riders fought for the same piece of road and came together on more-or-less the first tight corner. Bravely, I managed to avoid the trouble by falling straight to the back of the pack and being dropped soon after; something of a habit that, eh?
On the plus side, being on my own ensured that I avoided any trouble; I again decided to treat the race as an intensive time-trial and pushed on to the end regardless.
Company again: A guy caught me on the fifth lap and I managed to attach to his wheel; it seems like this is also getting to be a habit.
This fellow, (Christophe, aged 41), and I worked together for the rest of the race and our speed consequently remained fairly high. We were joined a few laps later by another rider, and the before long the three of us were working really well as a team. When one of us needed to recover from a spell in front the others took turns in the lead to make sure the our little group stayed together.
We were passed by the leaders on about lap nine, but we also overtook some slower riders as the race progressed. I felt quite strong most of the time, but like the others, there were spells when I needed to recover.
Larger group: We gathered a few companions during the second half of the race and at one stage our group swelled to nine. However, the others soon began haemorrhaging off and abandoning the race while we continued doggedly on. Back to our original group of three, we were overtaken by the main pack again on the penultimate lap; but I’m used to that now so I wasn’t so much of a kick in the nuts.
Lap of dishonour: As we passed the podium for the penultimate time the rest of the riders had either finished or abandoned but my two new mates and I decided to complete our race. We had to call out warnings all the way round our final lap as the spectators and other traffic, assuming the race was over, started filtering back onto the course.
As we had helped each other during the race, we agreed not to contest the finish and actually crossed the line three abreast. We received either a sympathetic, or ironic, round of applause, depending on the correct translation of an announcement (in French of course), from the podium. The commentator either said, “Well done, good effort lads,” or “Get out of the bloody way, we’re trying to get on with the award ceremony!” I really must improve my French!
What about that lone female competitor I hear you ask? Well, it turns out that she is a current French national champion who finished well up with the leaders. So much for my male chauvinist piggery!
Result: Again no classification for me as I was lapped a couple of times but I finished at an average speed of 35.1 kph. It was one of my best rides of the season. Marks out of ten: 3. Well, I did get lapped twice!
Good job I didn't take any longer as it was getting dark by the time we finished!
Newsflash (7th August): I’ve just returned from a Sunday training ride where I cycled over to St Péran (35), to watch my little mate Charlie Cushway and his brother Max, compete in a children’s race.
Charlie won a supremely well-judged uphill sprint finish, beating the current Morbihan Champion into second place, (incidentally it was the first time this year that the French lad had been beaten). This was Charlie’s seventh victory of the season – great work from a very promising young cyclist.
Little Max won silver in another great sprint finish. 
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